


Some Baking Required

by hazelandglasz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:36:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8635459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: Your classic coffee/bakery shop AU for materassassino's birthday ^^





	

The name of the shop doesn’t make a lot of sense, but Allura doesn’t really care about sense whenever she comes to Voltron.

It feels like she has waited thousands of years for a place such as the modern, yet retro, café to open, and every time she enters it, it feels like coming home.

Maybe that’s why she goes there every day.

Even though the entire shop is covered in metal, with some colorful accents in every corner, it fills her with warmth.

Or maybe, a little voice that sounds suspiciously like Uncle Coran’s whispers in the back of her head, maybe it’s the delicious baker at the counter.

Maybe.

That’s entirely possible.

The man behind the counter is tall, and young, and muscular, with an hairdo that makes Allura’s fingers tingle with the need to tug on the white strand (possibly to bring the man’s face closer to her own. Maybe. Shush now) and bright eyes that twinkle when he welcomes Allura.

The rest of the crew is just as interesting--even the young one who keeps on hitting on Allura every time he mans the coffee machines--but there is something about the leader apparent that just …

Intrigues her.

To say the least.

Shiro, she hears the others calling him, with respect and a familiarity that speaks of habits.

As she munches on a muffin, pondering the pros and cons of just going to him and asking him out for coffee--or maybe he would like something else, something vastly different from coffee since he works in a coffee place, maybe she could take him to the weird fusion place that opened near her own building (the one Coran raves about) for a drink that seems to be coming from out of space, and then …-- Allura doesn’t see the way the object of her thoughts looks at her and sighs in his own drink.

\---

“Go and talk to her.”

Shiro nearly drops his porcelain mug (the one Pidge bought him with their first salary, the #1 Dad one) at Keith’s voice.

“How did you--when did you--what?”

Not his best moment, but he’s startled.

Shut up Lance.

Keith smirks at him and keeps on filling the baskets with more pastries--cheesecake-like Danishes, oh boy, Hunk outdid himself again. “Stop mopping after the Princess--”

“Who?!”

“You know exactly who,” Keith points out, using the tongs to poke Shiro in the chest, “and you have to ask her out.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shiro replies in what he hopes is a commanding tone, “and I don’t  _ have _ to do anything.”

“Yes you do.”

Pidge’s voice comes from under the coffee maker, and Shiro should stop being surprised by his team by now.

And yet.

“And why is that?” Shiro asks, leaning down to see what they’re doing in there.

With Pidge, it can be brilliant, like plugging the coffee machine with a supply of milk, or disastrous, like trying to make the machine clean itself.

Lance’s eyebrows still remember it.

“I have money riding on you and the Princess dating before the end of the month, and I need some to buy you idiots some Chrismukkah presents.”

Shiro’s eyebrows reach for his hairline. “You--bet on me asking her out? And why do you call her the Princess?” he adds, whipping his head towards Keith and Lance.

Lance smiles crookedly at him. “Look at her, all prim and proper and gorgeous and--”

“Ahem.”

Lance quickly pecks Keith’s cheek before returning his attention to Shiro. “She looks like she stepped out of a fairytale book, and you, my friend, deserves a happy ending. Go get her this weekend.”

“You bet on it too?”

“Possibly.”

“I’m surrounded by cupid people,” Shiro whispers to himself, running his fingers through his hair--when the day is right, he can almost pretend that he feels it like he used to.

“We want you to be happy, oh fearless leader,” Pidge says, pushing themself from under the heavy machinery. “That’s the first incentive.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Honest!” they cry out, and Shiro should know better, he really does, and yet he still looks at them and gets softened like butter at their puppy look.

“And how--how do you know asking her out will make me happy eventually?” he asks, chancing a glance at the customer.

She is adorable, with her white hair that looks as soft as cotton, and her dark skin, and her vivid blue eyes--like a doll that came to life.

That being said, there is a strength in the way she holds herself, a core of power that tells Shiro there is more to her than meets the eyes.

All things considered, that’s probably what fascinates him so much : the fuzzy knowledge that he could spend a lifetime unwrapping this woman and not get bored.

That, and the way she eats her muffins--those adorable bunny teeth, and the way she carefully gathers every little crumb and licks the pad of her finger …

God, he’s completely besotted.

“Go talk to her.”

“Not you too,” he groans as Hunk pushes a plate of cookies in his hands.

“Yes, me too,” Hunk says, not so gently pushing him from behind the counter. “From what you told me about her, she likes berries, so she should love those. Go give them to her.”

“What did you bet?”

“What bet?”

Shiro smiles at his principal chef, the real wizard behind the success of their little coffee shop.

Of course Hunk stayed out of any funny business--he’s an angel made out of sunshine.

“Oh,  _ the _ bet. Just that she’ll beat you to it.”

Never mind.

Shiro snatches the plate of cookies and bites into one while throwing a glare in the whole gang’s direction.

“Oh!”

Pidge is immediately at Hunk’s side, probably to comfort him, but Shiro is on a mission now.

Bringing the cookies to his …

Princess.

\---

“Hi.”

Allura half-chokes on the last piece of muffin she was chewing on at the sound of Shiro’s voice.

“H-hi,” she manages, hastily drinking some of her now-cold tea to smooth things over.

And to hide behind her cup for a blessed second.

“I’m sorry if I frightened you,” Shiro says softly, carefully putting down a plate of cookies that look golden and delicious.

She couldn’t possibly …

She just ate a mega muffin after all …

But those cookies look. So. Good.

“I was lost in thoughts,” she replies, fidgeting with the tip of her braid. “I didn’t see you coming here.”

“Sorry,” Shiro repeats, a small smile on his face and good Lord, that level of adorable should not be allowed on someone with his stature.

“No need to apologize,” Allura says, batting her hand in front of her, “I’m happy to see you without the counter between us.”

_ Oh Gosh he blushes. _

_ Why did I say that?! _

“Our--hum, our chef made those cookies, not yet on the menu. Would you--would you like to try one? Or a few,” he adds when a loud noise of disapproval comes from the … coffee machine.

Allura looks at the cookies, and they really look too delicious.

She looks up at the man offering them, and he does look delicious too.

“Only if you share one with me,” she replies, pulling up a chair, and looking at it pointedly.

Shiro’s blush intensifies, but he sits down, a beaming smile now on his face.

If given the chance, Allura will try to keep both live and kicking.

When she asks Shiro on an date--once they clean the plate of any remaining crumb, because cranberries and white chocolate cookies, come on--the happy shouts from the coffee machine fool no one.

But Allura can’t bring herself to care when she has a date with the sexiest barista on Earth (and probably in the whole galaxy).


End file.
